Novellus
by Mapon
Summary: "I just want to play football." But when you're not the typical sort of football player – small, frail, and not-all-that male – things can be tough. Sena just might end up being the biggest football sensation, or the next failed celebrity. Nonbinary!Sena; eventual HiruSena.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Novellus

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the series or characters involved in this story.

**Warnings**: AU, non-canon genders, gender-sliding, romance

**Relationship**: Hiruma/Sena

**Summary**: "I just want to play football." But when you're not the typical sort of football player – small, frail, and not-all-that male – things can be tough. Sena just might end up being the biggest football sensation, or the next failed celebrity.

**Notes**: _Important \- this is the updated 'Novellus', which is a **completely different story than the original one posted**. In this one, we have idol!Sena. This fic takes a lot of notes from other 'childhood' fics in which Sena has a completely different childhood and, as such, a different outlook on life. There will be minor OCs, in the form of the adults at Sena's company. The story takes place in Japan._

_Sena's company, "Momo Productions", was given that name not after the OC from the first 'Novellus' but borrowed from Momo Kisaragi from Kagepro._

_While this story will use she/her/hers pronouns for some of the story when referring to Sena, Sena is not a girl in this fic. Rather than going the route of the usual fem!Sena fics, Sena is outside the gender binary, choosing to be called 'daughter' and 'her' mostly for aesthetic purposes. You're going to see a lot of 'gender play' in this story, including dressing outside of the norm, refusal to conform with gender norms, etc. If you can't stand that, this isn't the fic for you. If you want a character that is either a boy or a girl, this isn't the fic for you._

_Please read and review._

* * *

**Chapter One**

Sena Kobayakawa met the quarterback of Deimon High's football team when she was fourteen. Not properly, not face to face or hand to hand, but she had peered down from the stands, a hat obscuring her face from any unsuspecting fans, and watched with held breath as the Devil Bats took the field.

Her eyes had fallen to the tall quarterback immediately, his shockingly blond hair and pierced ears calling attention to him. He was cackling at one of his teammates and smacking the larger boy on the back, and his smile made him seem infinitely pleased to be on the field.

The Devil Bats were playing Ojo, however, so Sena wasn't quite sure why the team was in such a good mood. It was almost guaranteed they would be crushed until the Knight's steel boots.

"Ah, there he is," Mamori had commented under her breath. Sena looked at her older friend. Mamori's arms were crossed firmly across her chest at she stared at the blond man. "That's Yoichi Hiruma," she told Sena once she caught her curious look.

"He's the one that causes all the trouble?" Sena had asked, chancing another look at the devilish boy.

"You have no idea," Mamori sighed. She extended an arm and pushed Sena's hat down farther. "Keep that on tight. We don't want an incident."

Sena had held onto her hat and watched the Devil Bats get absolutely destroyed.

But she'd seen something that day that had made the low burn in her gut turn into a flickering fire.

There was no time to say anything to the Devil Bats as she raced down the field, steps ahead of Mamori. Ichiro and Haruto were waiting for her. But she made sure to get one last look at the team before they went home.

* * *

"Absolutely not!" her agent had exclaimed.

Sena sighed and slumped in her chair. One year of being Momo Production's biggest idol and model, and yet she was still getting bossed around. Two years of being Momo Production's only non-binary model, and yet they were still demanding she keep some appearance of femininity.

"Tanaka-san," she said, pushing off the chair and standing in front of her agent. He ran a hand through his short black hair and glared at her, which Sena thought was unfair. She wasn't being unreasonable. She was the most reasonable idol she knew. "Getting into sports would help with my image. Haruto - I mean, Sakuraba-kun plays!"

Tanaka shook his head firmly and placed his hands on his desk. His dark eyes met Sena's own. "You are absolutely not playing American football." He leaned back and broke his stare. Sena's shoulders fell, the bracelets on her arms clinking softly. "Why not…soccer?" he offered.

Sena frowned. "No, I want to play American football. Why," she began to ask. Tanaka just held up a hand, shaking his head again.

"It's too dangerous. It's rough around the edges."

"I can be rough around the edges!" Sena exclaimed. "Won't that improve my image with some of the fans?"

Tanaka watched her sadly. "Your image with the fans is fine." He stood. "Now, go to practice. You have a long night ahead."

That was every night, but she knew better than to snip about that. She just turned on her heel and walked to where the car was waiting to take her to dance practice, smiling to the exclamations of "Sena-chan!" and "Kobayakawa-kun!" that greeted her.

It didn't matter what Tanaka-san said, she decided during practice as sweat ran down her neck and her coach shouted at her to get in step, Sena was the lead, didn't they realize, if they couldn't keep up he should give it to someone who could. She was still going to enter into Deimon, and she was going to get on that football team even if it killed her. Even if it killed her career.

Was what she told Agon the next day, at least. Her childhood friend had slammed his drink onto the table and loomed over her. The full force of his fury, and the subsequent fear that flooded Sena's body, made her shake uncontrollably.

"No way are you joining that trash team," he hissed. "If you wanna play so badly join Shinryuuji."

"Agon," she'd whined, no longer shaking at the mention of his school. They'd had this conversation before. "Shinryuuji is a boy's school."

Agon sat back in his seat, grabbing his drink with more force than necessary and chugging the entirety of the soda down. Sena sighed. "That doesn't matter. Cut your hair short and start being a boy again."

"I'm not a boy," she said, her grip on her own drink tightening until her knuckles whitened. "You know that."

Agon looked at her from behind his sunglasses. "…I do," he eventually admitted. "But no way in hell are you joining Deimon's trash team."

"No way are you playing," Ichiro had said when she talked to him. "Football's too dangerous for someone like you."

"No way," Mamori had said. "Football isn't safe for you."

By the end of the week, her choreographer was seriously threatening to find a different idol to do the dance, all else be damned. Sena was crouched over, heaving breathes wracking her chest, sweat dropping in pools from her skin. Her hair was falling from her bun. She didn't even want to look up and see herself in the mirror.

"Kobayakawa-kun," her choreographer said, stepping in front of her. She dripped sweat onto his shoes. "We need to try this again."

She heaved another breath. "Kido-san," she said, shifting back into a seated position, "what do you think of…" She bit her lip. "Sports?"

Kido sniffed, tilting his head up in disgust. Sena felt her heart sink. "They're incredibly boring," he said. His bright eyes narrowed. "But if you like them…" he trailed off. He motioned for her to stand. "Dancing will help in whatever you decide to play."

Sena grinned and put all her effort in for the rest of the session.

It didn't matter that her friends disagreed. And her agent was all image, image, image! But she knelt in front of the shrine and lit incense and knew, beyond all of it, that she would get on that field someday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Novellus

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the series or characters involved in this story.

**Warnings**: AU, non-canon genders, gender-sliding, romance_  
_

**Relationship**: Hiruma/Sena

**Summary**: "I just want to play football." But when you're not the typical sort of football player – small, frail, and not-all-that male – things can be tough. Sena just might end up being the biggest football sensation, or the next failed celebrity.

**Notes**: _Chapter two of the **updated** 'Novellus', in which Hiruma is properly introduced.  
_

_Please read &amp; review. This is an in-process work. I also have a poll on what I should work on next._

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Sena held the latest photo book in her hands, flipping quietly through each page.

"Sawai-san is an excellent photographer, isn't she?" Tanaka said, grinning as he tapped one of the books on the table. Sena nodded. Her agent was incredibly pleased, of course, that the new photos were out, were going to bring in money, that Sena would be going to signings and smiling at the fans. And, as she flicked through the book, Sena was happy too.

She'd become an idol through modeling, and as she peered at the pictures before her, she remembered exactly why she attended practice and stood in front of the cameras.

Momo Productions had kept their word, all on the chance for a good product - Sena Kobayakawa, the non-binary model turned idol, who sported elegant suits and frilly dresses based on how she was feeling. Fans called Sena 'they' and 'them', and they all ate up interviews with Sena talking excitedly about her varied hobbies. About what it meant to be outside of male and female, to be something that Sena could only call 'new'.

Looking at the pictures of herself, she couldn't help but feel that the photographer had captured exactly what it meant to be 'Sena'.

Tanaka sent her off with a copy of the book and well wishes for the new school year -

And that was how Sena started high school.

That, and Mamori meeting her outside the train station, trying to shove another hat on her.

"It'll be okay, Mamori-neesan," Sena consoled, shoving the hat away as playfully as she could. She laughed as Mamori finally relented and shoved the baseball cap into her bag. "I doubt anyone will realize who I am. I look so plain in person."

Mamori still sighed as they made their way out of the station and toward Deimon. "I think you underestimate people," Mamori said under her breath. She snatched Sena's wrist and began tugging her along all the same, though. Sena smiled.

They were a block away from Deimon and Sena was talking about her next dance rehearsal when the screams came. And Sena knew them immediately for what they were, her ears fine-tuned to the shrieks and cries. She'd been hearing them for two years, after all.

Fans.

Girls, boys, and everyone in between and outside was huddled near the entrance to the school - and most of them were definitely not wearing Deimon's uniform. They waved and cheered at Sena, still a block away. Some of them were holding signs. Huge hearts and declarations of love adorned some of the signs; others held simple wishes for the new school year. Sena felt her knees wobble. Thank god for wearing pants, she thought as she stared at the crowd.

"Told you," Mamori murmured. She sighed heavily. "Let's go do this."

With a firm nod, Mamori stepped toward the crowd. Sena could only follow, and the second she set her foot down, she felt her face fall into place. Perfect small smile. Gentle waves. Hold onto her bag, just in case. Take measured steps, never too fast or too slow. Back straight, head straight, skim her eyes along the crowd. Don't make eye contact for too long.

The crowd only screamed louder as she walked into it, pushing through to make it to school.

"Sena!" people cried, hands reaching out. "Sena!"

For anyone else, surely the cries of their name would set their heart on fire. The thrill, the adoration, all of it. But Sena wanted to run into the school, not walk pleasantly through the massive amount of adorers. She wanted to sprint until her lungs and legs gave out. She didn't want to tilt her head so her hair cascaded over her shoulder and smile winningly.

"Can you believe they're going to Deimon?" some people asked, attempts at whispering in the crowd turning into larger cries.

"Such an ordinary school!"

"Such an ordinary life!"

As Sena spun on her heel and waved her fans goodbye, her heart panged with the knowledge that this was far from an ordinary life.

* * *

School itself was absolutely, completely, and utterly worse. Constant calls of "Sena-chan!" and blushing boys approaching her with soft remarks for "Kobayakawa-kun". And even more "Kobayakawa-san", pushing her farther and farther away from her classmates as if she lived in another realm entirely, even while she was sitting right next to them.

(Sure, she lived in a different world. One where she spent way too many nights sweating over dances and smiling just right for the camera. One where every last piece of clothing had to be tailored.

She really, really loved the sweatpants that she'd somehow hidden from Tanaka's tailor-crazed demands. Beautiful, beautiful sweatpants that didn't fit quite right.)

"I'm so happy you're in our class, Sena-chan!"

"Do you wanna go out for karaoke after school, Kobayakawa-kun?"

"Kobayakawa-san, are you good at math? I'm not good at math."

The end of school came like a shining beacon of hope, and before the classroom even knew what happened, Sena had flown on swift feet out of the class and down the stairs, straight into the most abandoned section of the school she could find.

She breathed in deeply. Perhaps she had miscalculated. Compared to her pictures plastered over Tokyo, compared to the photoshoots, compared to the concerts, to the fashion shows, to the magazine spreads, Sena was plain. Quiet, withdrawn, shy. When she stepped in front of a camera, a whole new side blossomed from her, one which was confident, happy, exuberant. She'd thought, like in her previous school, people wouldn't notice her much. Or those that did would simply move on, realizing that the idol people called Tokyo's 'little flower' was much more boring in person.

No one seemed to be moving on. Her knees clacked together threateningly.

But everyone was using 'they' or 'her', and remembering that made her knees still in their shaking. Her breathing evened out. People were being overwhelming, shoving into her space, speaking too loud and too quickly, but they seemed enamored with her - for her. For Sena. She placed a hand over her chest.

More than anything, she owed the scout at Momo Productions for allowing her a chance at that sort of peace.

Students were yelling for their friends, making plans for the afternoon, and hesitantly, Sena stuck her head out.

Deimon High rose above her, not all that intimidating, a simple school with simple trees and simple students milling about. A group of young girls laughed. The air smelled crisp and sharp against Sena's nose.

There was a reason she'd come to this school, and she stepped from her hiding spot into the courtyard of Deimon. A few people saw her and waved. She inclined her head.

And then she asked them where, maybe, perhaps? she could find Yoichi Hiruma.

* * *

Yoichi Hiruma was a strange man. He held almost everyone in Tokyo in the palm of his hand, pulling strings to achieve his every desire. He strutted about with guns slung over his shoulder and hidden in what could only have been magical, endless pockets. He dressed like the demon he was, from his piercings to his black skin-tight clothes.

And since Sena had seen him a year ago on the field, the idol had know she'd had to have him. Because there was fire in his eyes, and if anyone could find a way for her to play football while the rest of the world conspired for her not to, it would be that man.

She didn't care what anyone said - she was going to make Yoichi Hiruma, the demon of Tokyo, her quarterback.

If she could find him, that was. She stared at the shabby shack before her. People she had spoken to about the football club had pointed her here with quivering fingers. But all she could hear was the soft swish of the wind through the trees. Gingerly, she opened the door and peeked inside. Darkness was all that greeted her.

Hiruma wasn't here either, and with a sorrowful sigh she shut the door. She'd gone all over her new school in pursuit of the quarterback, with absolutely nothing to show for it. Maybe she should have learned more before trying to hunt down the man. But she couldn't ask Mamori for help. She bit her cheek hard. Agon had outright refused to talk about Hiruma, so he was out too. Ichiro would know what she was plotting immediately, stupid perceptive guy that he was. She scuffed her shoe on the ground before sighing again.

She would just come back tomorrow.

Just as she was turning around, however, a shadow fell over her. She jumped and looked up.

Right at the man she'd been looking for.

"Yoichi Hiruma!" she cried.

The demon frowned down at her - he was taller face to face than he had looked on the field. He had a plastic bag from the convenience store in his hand, and a small pink bubble popped from his lips. His eyes bore down at her, and Sena pressed herself against the door.

Which wasn't as closed as she thought, and with a yelp she went tumbling backward.

Instinctively, she reached for something, anything to hold onto. But the only thing in front of her was Hiruma, and a mortified blush flared on her face as she latched onto her upperclassman's jacket.

'Oh no,' she thought.

"Fuck," was all Hiruma said as they fell down into the shed. Dust erupted around them as they sprawled on the ground, a loud 'thud' greeting them as they collided with the floor.

Sena couldn't bear to look at Hiruma. Of all the ways to meet the man, she'd chosen dragging him on top of her into a deserted, dusty club shed. The smell of him was more overpowering than the must, like mint and soap all around her, and the weight of him was even stronger. Her head should surely be throbbing from the fall.

But it wasn't, and with a deepening blush she realized that Hiruma's hands - huge, huge hands - had kept her from banging against the floor too badly.

'Mother in heaven,' she prayed as she felt Hiruma lift himself away from her, 'this wasn't what I meant when I said I'd make him mine.'

She slowly peeked at the quarterback, who had risen off of her completely.

He was glaring at her, his lips drawn down in what must have been offense. He brushed off dirt from his uniform and picked up his forgotten bag, his every movement stiff. She gulped.

"The fuck was that?" he snapped at her. She flinched and stood as well, wiping off the dirt from her own pants.

"I," she started. Hiruma waved his hand - she couldn't get the feel of his hand, how damn large it was, out of her mind - to silence her.

"I know you fell down," he said snidely, flicking on the shed light. Sena tried to ignore the mess it revealed. "I want to know about the 'make him mine' shit you were saying."

"Oh God," Sena said, her heart clattering all the way past her feet. "I didn't - it doesn't mean anything. I didn't mean to say that out loud, I just, it's just that."

And even though her face was blushing hard enough she was worried she'd be stuck red-faced forever, even though she couldn't give a good reason, even though she'd just blurted out the most embarrassing thing she could think of to the one person who would never forget what she said - Hiruma laughed. He was busy cleaning off a table and chairs, kicking equipment off haphazardly, but he laughed.

"Calm the hell down," he advised. He kicked a chair at her, and she didn't need to be told twice to sit down. "I just thought it was interesting, was all." He swung out a kettle and cups, and before Sena was quite she what was happening, Hiruma had made her tea and she was sitting across from him, only a rickety plastic table separating them.

She stared into her tea. Normally she would take sugar with it, but she didn't have the strength to ask for any. She wasn't sure she even had the strength to do what she had come here to do.

She had imagined this moment for a year. She would be accepted into Deimon and go up to the football club and then she'd - she'd demand to be let into the club. She would come face to face with Yoichi Hiruma and hold her head up high and for the second time in her life she would really demand something. And Hiruma, the demon of Deimon, would do what she wanted because she was confident and unafraid and…

And instead she was bowing her head toward her tea and waiting for her blush to fade.

He probably thinks I'm some weird stalker, she thought morosely, sipping at her tea.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," she began to say in a rush, pushing her chair out.

"You came to one of our games last year," he said at the same time.

His voice was like an arrow that hit her in the chest, and Sena immediately sat back down. She looked up at him, and he wasn't frowning at her. He wasn't cackling or laughing like he had been earlier either. He was just - observing. His eyes were quiet and watchful. She clenched her hands around her paper cup.

"You remember me?" she said, ignoring that Deimon's football team had only had one game the year before.

Hiruma's silent eyes turned mocking, and he rolled them as he leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, cause the little flower is so hard to identify. You're such a fucking mystery," he drawled.

A flush shot up Sena's face again, but she was pleased it was one of anger rather than embarrassment.

"I'm - I'm not a little flower!" she barked back. Hiruma just smiled with all his fangs.

"Sena Kobayakawa, Tokyo's little flower," he said. He swung his chair down with a clack and bent over the table, his grin only growing as he got closer to her. "Not a boy, not a girl - everyone knows who you are." He suddenly retreated. "Of course, that means no one really knows anything useful about you. It was hard digging up information on you, you know."

"Well," Sena said, keeping her hands on the cup to keep them from visibly shaking, "you should know I don't like being called a little flower."

Hiruma grinned at her, tapping his fingers against his lips. "That's not what I was talking about and you know it…brat."

The name wasn't ideal, but it was miles better than 'little flower', so Sena relaxed.

"So what's the real reason you were waiting to pounce on me?" Hiruma asked, swinging his body toward her again. He lowered himself to her eye level and placed his hand just near where hers were clamped on the cup. "Cause I'd really love to hear it."

"I wasn't waiting to pounce on you," she protested. This close, the scent of mint was filling her nose again, and she had to nip at her lip to keep from saying something stupid. "I was wanting to - um."

There went her confidence, right out the door with its tail between its legs. Hiruma's eyebrow twitched.

"Well? The hell is it?"

Sena stared at the demon. His eyes were bright green. Unnaturally green. Maybe he really was a demon. Maybe she'd made a mistake in coming to Deimon. The magic that had captivated her a year ago, that had made her legs ache, had made her chest fill up with that light airy emotion she still couldn't place, maybe it was a fluke, maybe she should have listened to Agon, maybe -

"I want to be on the football team," she blurted out as fast as she could.

'Please don't say no,' she thought, and she made sure to keep her lips sealed this time.

But Hiruma didn't say no. He didn't say anything. He just reached forward and - ruffled her hair. She was frozen as he did so, seemingly wanting to run his hands through it all. And then he chuckled, under his breath, almost as if he didn't want to.

"That wasn't so damn hard, was it?" he said. His voice with thick with mirth.

She blinked up at him. He moved his hand away as soon as her eyes fell on his. "You knew?"

"I said it was hard to find information. Not impossible." He grinned extra wide. "And I already know what position you want, so you don't have to work yourself up over asking for that either."

I really am making a deal with the devil, Sena thought as Hiruma went about the shed, searching for something among the wreckage. She stood, abandoning her tea.

"So you'll let me on the team?" she asked.

"Of fucking course," Hiruma grumbled, his back to her. "I know how good you run. Only a fucking idiot wouldn't have you on their team." He grunted happily and tugged out a jersey.

Sena smiled, glad the quarterback couldn't see her right at that moment. At least, she didn't think he could see her. When it came to Hiruma, who really knew for sure?

But her upperclassman didn't say a thing, just continued rustling about among the equipment, and Sena kept smiling as she said, "You can't let anyone know who I am."

Hiruma went horribly, frighteningly still.

Slowly, his shoulders shaking from obvious frustration, Hiruma turned back toward her, eyes glimmering threateningly. Sena felt her smile shake, but she didn't sit back down. She didn't grab her tea. She had gotten through the worst of it. Now was just the time to negotiate.

With the devil, but she'd already signed her soul away.

Hiruma strode over to her, jersey in his hand, helmet in the other. He looked at her with that same piercing stare he'd given her earlier.

And without warning shoved the helmet onto her head.

"Fucking fine," he growled out, and Sena couldn't help but smile at the thought that maybe, just maybe, she'd won against the demon.

Except no one ever won against Yoichi Hiruma.

"You'll be the team secretary, as cover," he said, and his grin was devastatingly evil and self-serving.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Novellus

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the series or characters involved in this story.

**Warnings**: AU, non-canon genders, gender-sliding, romance

**Relationship**: Hiruma/Sena

**Summary**: "I just want to play football." But when you're not the typical sort of football player – small, frail, and not-all-that male – things can be tough. Sena just might end up being the biggest football sensation, or the next failed celebrity.

**Notes: **_Chapter three of the **updated** 'Novellus'. __Yes, Sena's mother is deceased in this fic. This is an AU, after all._

_Please read and review._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"I can't be the secretary!"

Hiruma kept grinning through Sena's protests. She'd thrown off the helmet, tossed away the jersey, and immediately started following the older boy as he went about setting up equipment for practice. Well, following as close as she could. Hiruma seemed incredibly adept at stepping just out of the way, as if keeping some invisible barrier between them.

Considering that she had literally pulled the man on top of her as a greeting, Sena couldn't blame him.

"Hiruma," she whined.

Hiruma laid the equipment for the ladder exercise down. "Don't use my name without an honorific."

Sena paused. "Hiruma…kun?"

He grinned again and wagged his finger. "I'm your upperclassman, aren't I?"

Sena made sure not to respond to that. "I want to play on the team. If I'm the secretary, everyone will expect me to…"

"If you're the secretary, our membership will skyrocket," Hiruma countered. He pulled a football out of what must have been thin air, because one moment his hands were empty and the next he was throwing the ball at her chest. Sena barely caught it. Maybe footballs were like guns to the demon - they came into existence as needed. "If people knew you were on the team, our membership would still skyrocket, but I'm not the one saying you can't play on the team."

"No, my agent," Sena started, reaching to throw the ball back to Hiruma. He opened his hands up to catch, but Sena suddenly narrowed her eyes. "I didn't tell you that my agent forbid me from playing."

Hiruma lowered his hands and laughed. "I already knew that. Fuck, you're easy to fool."

So the anger had been fake, Sena realized. She threw the football back, harder than necessary. "You were already planning on hiding me!"

"And you being secretary," Hiruma added gleefully. He jogged backward before tossing the ball to her again. "Too bad I couldn't scare you into playing honestly."

"I don't need to show my face to play honestly," she replied, still engaging him in the game of catch.

Hiruma rolled his eyes.

And then narrowed them into terrifying slits and threw the ball like a laser past Sena's head. It sizzled as it went past her ear. Actual sizzle and burn. She didn't even have time to yelp. Hiruma stepped past her, huge strides, keeping that invisible barrier between them, and yelled, "Oi, fatass!"

"Hiruma!" someone called, voice shaking.

Sena turned, and before her stood the linebacker she'd seen in the Ojo-Deimon game the year before. His huge body was trembling, not helped by Hiruma swinging out a gun and yelling at him about being late. Sena scrambled for a name, clawing at her brain, but nothing snapped into place.

She may have been, possibly, a bit too focused on Hiruma.

"Oh!" the linebacker said, noticing Sena for the first time. He immediately forgot about the threats Hiruma was hissing at him. Maybe this was normal. Looking at Hiruma, it was definitely normal. He harassed even his teammates. "Who's this? I've never seen a boy with such long hair."

Sena bristled.

"That's Sena Kobyakawa, and they're not a boy," Hiruma answered. "Sena, meet the fatass." He walked with linebacker over to where Sena stood in the field.

"My name is Kurita…" Kurita said morosely at Hiruma. "I didn't know girls were allowed to wear pants at Deimon," Kurita commented.

"I'm not a girl either," Sena responded. Her guts twisted up.

Kurita tilted his head before lighting up. "Ah, okay! Sorry, sorry, I've never met someone who isn't either."

Sena sighed, relieved, stomach immediately calming. Hiruma's shoulders relaxed, making Sena blink. He'd been worried too? Hiruma didn't look like he worried about anything ever.

"So what pronouns do you use? Is that the question to ask?" Kurita asked. Sena picked at her pants.

"Uh…people who know me use 'she'," she answered.

Hiruma watched her with those observing eyes again, and she felt under a microscope. She flushed. "So you can use 'she'," she elaborated. Hiruma looked away.

"Good! It's nice to meet you," Kurita said, bowing his head slightly.

"The brat's going to be the team secretary," Hiruma interrupted. Kurita's eyes widened to huge proportions, tearing up with equally huge tears.

"We're going to have a secretary! Oh, that's great!" He immediately held Sena's hands in his own and exclaimed the joys of having a secretary, how wonderful it would be, someone to help out deciding plays and scouting the other teams.

"And she'll be playing with us on the field, eventually," Hiruma went on.

Kurita's eyes grew even wider, and this time he hauled Sena into his arms and crushed her in a hug.

"We have a new player!" he wailed.

Sena couldn't breathe. Sena couldn't breathe at all, and Kurita hugged exactly like Mamori did. Maybe Mamori would be a good lineman. Probably only if she was defending Sena, though.

When Kurita finally let her go, Sena tried as discreetly as possible to check for broken ribs.

"What position will you play, Sena-kun?" Kurita asked, positively buzzing.

Sena could feel Hiruma's face splitting grin at Kurita's question, even with the man's back facing her, and suddenly the blond was calling out for her to get in place.

"For the 40 yard dash," he said. "Let's see how fast you really are."

"You say that like you've been watching me," Sena commented, getting ready.

"You say that like I haven't," Hiruma responded blandly, and then a gun was going off, loud and painful, and Sena ran.

* * *

When he heard that she didn't have any dance practices or signings to go to, Hiruma bought Sena coffee. He had waved her over with one curling finger after she was covered in sweat, exhausted from running, exhausted from watching the other players practice, and she had expected him to trap her in the football shed. He had changed into a black turtle neck and pants - enough of a change to make Sena unsteady.

"Get changed," he had told her, absent a smile. Sena's fingers twitched. "I'm taking you out."

"Where?" she asked. Her throat felt sticky.

Hiruma just tossed his bag over his shoulder. "Out. Hurry the fuck up, brat."

So Sena had raced to the shed and changed into her school uniform. Hiruma had taken one glare at it before shaking his head, stiff. "Not that," he hissed. "Don't you have anything else, stupid idol?"

Sena's eyebrow twitched that time. "I don't usually carry about a dozen outfits," she replied.

Hiruma sighed. "Fine."

Hiruma decided he was going to accompany her home, and then take her out.

Sena didn't even bother protesting. She just rode the train home, Hiruma at her side, his long fingers wrapped around the handrail, eyes staring out the windows as if waiting. And it was only as they pulled up to her stop that she realized she'd been staring at Hiruma the entire time. He hadn't looked down at her once.

"This is my," she started to say as they walked into her apartment complex.

"I know where you live," he replied.

Well, that made for an awkward silence as the elevator doors shut behind them. Sena wasn't able to push the number for her floor for a few seconds, struck by his words as if he'd actually shot her.

"That wasn't creepy," Hiruma said as the elevator started inching up.

'It was so creepy,' Sena thought quietly, gripping her bag as if it would save her life.

Hiruma leaned his slim arms against the bar lining the walls, and Sena glanced at the quarterback. His lips were pressed together, as if restraining - a frown?

A snort of laughter, apparently, which made its way out anyway. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, voice cheerier than Sena would expect.

"Oh," she replied. The elevator bell dinged and they stepped off into the hallway. Hiruma shoved his hands into his pockets. "Um. I mean, you're the demon of Tokyo, so."

Hiruma snorted again. "Demon of Tokyo, huh."

Sena unlocked the door to her apartment.

And Hiruma became an angel.

How he did it, Sena would never know. One moment he was all frightful piercings and fangs, all sharp angels, like a walking talking weapon. The next, he was still piercings and fangs, but all of it seemed so pleasant. His edges eased. He glowed in a way that had nothing to do with flamethrowers.

Sena was so shocked she didn't even say hello to her father. She just gaped.

"Hello, Kobayakawa-san," Hiruma greeted. He smiled and bowed. "I'm Yoichi Hiruma, Sena's upperclassman."

"Nice to meet you, Yoichi-kun."

It was only because Sena was slightly behind the other boy that she saw his fingers twitch behind his back.

"Sena?" her father asked, thick eyebrows drawing together in concern. Sena jumped into action.

"Dad! Uh - yes, this is Hiruma-san." She still couldn't bring herself to use the honorific he'd requested. "He's the captain of the football team. American football."

"That's quite a rough sport," her father commented. "Come in," he beckoned them forward. "Would you like some tea?" he offered Hiruma. Hiruma shook his head softly and continued smiling.

"No, we're just here so Sena can change," Hiruma explained. Sena slipped off to her room, just in time to hear Hiruma say, "This apartment is quite large."

But he must have known exactly how large it was, she thought critically as she shut her door. Sena slipped out of her uniform and scrambled through her closet. Something appropriate for going out with an upperclassman. Something appropriate for today's feeling. For Sena's feeling.

She swung dark pants and a loose white blouse on, shoving her feet into blue sneakers and tying her hair into a bun. There, relaxed and comfortable. She grabbed her purse, a matching blue to her shoes, and then raced as subtly as possible to the dining room where her father was still with to Hiruma.

Hiruma was - bowing at her mother's shrine. Sena stopped, stunned at seeing the boy inclining his head. Her father was watching him, shadowy eyes drooping behind his glasses. She couldn't read him. But she'd never been able to read her father. It had always been as if a great gap, an ocean, a chasm separated them.

When Hiruma had finished paying his respects, he whirled about. He almost gave Sena a horrifying toothy smile before catching himself, eyes flicking to Shuuma.

"I'm ready," Sena said, stepping up to the blond.

"Stay safe," her father said. His eyes became hard as they fell on Sena, and she nodded. "It was nice to meet you, Yoichi-kun."

"You too, Kobayakawa-san," Hiruma said, and then they were out of the apartment and back into the stiflingly silent elevator.

It was when they were at the cafe - some hideaway place, almost empty, with soft jazz music and dim lights, astoundingly expensive coffee - that Hiruma tilted his chair back and said, as if talking to the air above him, "You never mention your mother."

Sena ran her finger along the rim of her coffee. She never did mention her mother. Never in interviews, rarely even to her friends. Her mother wasn't far from her mind, was an almost mythic presence, but she couldn't bring herself to talk about her. She'd forgotten the scent of her mother years ago. Her mother's smell was incense now.

"It's hard losing a mom," Hiruma commented, again to the air.

Sena didn't process his words until he'd clacked his chair back down and was picking up his coffee, and by then it was too late. His eyes were stabbing her and his lips were curling into that devilish smile, and he was moving on.

"So an idol on the football team," he cackled under his breath. "Your company would have a fit."

Sena gulped down more coffee than she meant to, and the scalding it gave her throat just served as a reminder of the stupid, amazing path she was headed down. "That's why I can't play as myself."

"But you will play," Hiruma said.

"If I'm supposed to be secretary, I don't see how," Sena responded, bitterness filling her tongue.

Hiruma laughed. "You should have some fucking faith in me."

Sena blinked. "But you're the devil."

Hiruma just laughed harder, and Sena almost couldn't believe she'd said that out loud. Damn her loose lips. Couldn't they have chosen someone better to spew nonsense to? Yoichi Hiruma was not the kind of person who forgot anything.

"You'll be fun to play with," Hiruma said. "Especially with that fucking ridiculous run of yours."

"Shin helped me with it," Sena admitted.

And then she really, really regretted how easily she spouted out her secrets, because that one had Hiruma's eyebrows lifting up, up, up.

"I thought those rumors were bull shit," Hiruma said. He frowned. "So that obnoxious jock knows how fast you can run?"

"Well, yeah, and," Sena frowned as well. She raised up in her chair. "For someone who only cares about football, I don't think you should call others obnoxious jocks."

Hiruma pushed his chair back and propped his feet on the table. "Aw, you're defensive of the fucking _other teams' players_?" Hiruma hissed, his face darkening.

"Shin is my friend," Sena protested. "So are Ichiro and Haruto."

Hiruma shoved a piece of gum in his mouth. Which seemed pointless, since he still had over half his coffee left. His face only darkened further. Sena prepared herself to smell brimstone. "And Agon-chan." He blew a bubble and popped it loudly.

Sena fiddled with her drink. "Yes, Agon is my friend too. I've known him for a long time."

Hiruma waved his hand, but he popped three more bubbles. Yikes. "Yeah, yeah, you're fucking childhood friends. I know that damn story. And the fucking model hangs out with you cause you're a fucking model. And fucking glasses hangs out with you because he tutored you. And the damn nuisance thinks she's your big sister."

"Do you call anyone by their names?" Sena asked weakly around her coffee.

"No. Fucking brat."

Hiruma's hand found her hair again, but her patted instead of running his hand through it and disturbing her bun. The touch shocked her, low in her spine and shooting up to where he touched.

She didn't meant to, but she ducked away from his hand, disliking the sharp shock, and Hiruma immediately fell back into his seat and blew another bubble.

"That nuisance is really gonna be a problem," he said. "She'll hang me if she finds out I'm letting you play on the field."

'Nuisance?' Sena thought. "Are you talking about Mamori-neesan?"

Hiruma let out a deep growl. "I can't fucking believe you call her that."

"She's like my big sister," Sena said, offended.

"And you call Agon 'niisan'?" Hiruma pried, nose twitching in distaste.

"Ew, no," Sena said automatically.

Hiruma blinked, and then the two of them were laughing. Their laughter filled the cafe, the sound of it bouncing off the walls, the barista peering from behind the counter at them with tired eyes, but Sena couldn't stop.

The sound faded away. The sight of Hiruma, actually laughing, didn't.

"Any fucking way," Hiruma said after his voice had leveled out. "I bought you that horrific concoction so you could ask anything you wanted."

Sena decided not to defend her coffee.

"Ask what I wanted?" she said instead.

Hiruma sipped his coffee, which must have been foul with his gum. But he didn't even wince. "That's what I said." He tapped his fingers once on the table. "Don't you have questions about what playing will be like? Since you're playing for the demon of Tokyo."

The laughter finally faded away from Sena's chest, sucked out in a low gasp.

Her eyes fell to the floor.

"…I do," she said. She coughed. "I do have a question. A request."

"Apart from my letting you on the team and shielding your identity," Hiruma snarked. Sena winced.

"…please don't," she started. She bit her lip. "Please don't use my gender as a…as a ploy."

She didn't hear the pop of Hiruma's gum.

"Oi, look at me, stupid brat."

Sena did. Hiruma was observing her again. His expression was quiet, like when he had been at her mother's shrine.

"I can promise you one thing," he said, voice deepening. "_I_ won't use you as some trick play. But how other people react - I'm not fucking controlling that. Don't make me responsible for that." He pushed his chair out all the way and stood up. "Is that it?"

Sena stared up at him.

"Don't act weird about me?" she asked. "About who I am."

"Brat," Hiruma said. "What's there to be weird about?"

Sena smiled, small and true.


End file.
